


Held for ransom

by elricsyao



Series: 31 days of whumptober [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt!Ed, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elricsyao/pseuds/elricsyao
Summary: Fullmetal was a dumbassRoy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Don't get him wrong, the kid was one of the smartest people he'd ever met, yet he was the champ of disobeying orders. This led to the times Fullmetal ended up held for ransom, like the situation occurring right now.For day 3 of whumptober. Theme: My way or the highwayPrompt: Manhandled/held at gunpoint
Relationships: Edward Elric & Original villain, Edward Elric & Roy Mustang
Series: 31 days of whumptober [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950331
Comments: 10
Kudos: 121
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Held for ransom

**Author's Note:**

> Back with whumptober day 3! I hope y'all enjoy!

Fullmetal was a dumbass

Roy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Don't get him wrong, the kid was one of the smartest people he'd ever met, yet he was the champ of disobeying orders. This led to the times Fullmetal ended up held for ransom, like the situation occurring right now. 

Roy sighed again, glancing up a Fury to tell him to begin tracking the call. "You're sure you caught the Fullmetal Alchemist?" He asked, eyebrow raised, voice slightly uninterested. 

"Red coat, braid. Short. Does that ring a bell for you?" Somewhere in the background, Roy heard the angry yells of his tiny subordinate, surely screaming death threats at his captor, Shane Witmore. The man swore, probably pulling the phone away from his face, and yelling for Fullmetal to shut up. 

Witmore returned, annoyed. Anger covered his voice. "I want a million cens by five tonight, or the runt dies." Roy's eyes narrowed, any amusement still in him flooding out quickly. 

"And if I don't," Roy pressed, voice dangerously low. His ungloved fingers pressed together as if he was preparing to snap. "What will happen then?"

Witmore chuckled, sending chills up Roy's spine. If the man hurt Edward...god help his soul. The man would wish he hadn't been born. "Then expect to have him back in pieces. Goodbye, Colonel." 

The dial tone echoed in his ears.

Roy snarled and slammed the phone down. He whirled around to find Hawkeye standing tensely beside him. "Sir, your orders?" Her calm voice didn't betray the worry she felt.

He was silent for a moment, ideas of what should be done racing through his head. "Lieutenant, contact general Grumman, tell him the Fullmetal Alchemist has been held hostage."

"Yes, sir." Hawkeye snaps a salute and reaches for the phone."

Roy turned to the window, arms crossed.  _ Just wait a little longer, Fullmetal. _

* * *

Ed was pissed. He was very, very pissed. His arms were restrained behind him, far enough so he couldn't clap. His legs were restrained to the chair he was tied to. He couldn't move.

Once again, he was pissed. How he allowed himself to be caught by the ugly bastard was beyond him. One moment he'd been stalking the man, the next moment, the air whistled, something colliding with the back of his head and knocking him out before he knew what happened.

Waking up with a head wound only added to his bad mood, that didn't even include the idiot sitting in front of him with a smirk on his face. "What?" he snapped, hands balling into fists. The bastard only chuckled, shaking his head.

"Hard to believe a runt like you is the 'hero of the people'." Witmore mocked. He dug into his pocket.

"Who're you calling a runt?" Ed snarled, tugging at his bonds. The chair rocked forward, and it would've toppled if Witmore hadn't caught the chair. The chair is forcefully shoved back onto all fours. Whitmore grabs his chin, jerking his face upwards.

"You listen here, you little brat," Whitmore growled. Ed glowered up at the man, the hand pressed harder, causing slight pain to flare in his jaw. "I'm giving flame alchemist until five to give me my money, but I won't hesitate to kill you if you don't behave yourself." 

Ed glowered, shaking his head and dislodging his hand. Whitmore stared at him a moment longer before leaving the room and leave Ed to his thoughts. Ed glanced at his automail, smirking at a scrape on his automail that slightly raised the metal and made it rough. It would take a while but with a lot of effort. 

He grinned; he wouldn't have to wait for the bastard to get here if he could free himself. 

Without a moment to spare, Ed set off to work.

* * *

Ed panted, sweat dripping down his forehead. He tugged the rest of the ropes, finally freeing himself after two long hours of scraping the rope. He stood up quickly, head wound causing the world to spin, and he suddenly realized it might be a lot harder than he thought sneaking out of this place. 

The world continued to spin, but Ed forced himself forward. He took in the room, finally deciding to make a hole in the wall. It would be the easiest way to escape; he wouldn't even have to go past Whitmore.

He clapped, and blue lightning quickly lit up the room. Wasting no time, Ed touched a hand to the wall. A hole formed quickly, and Ed scrambled out. Cold air met him, and he inhaled the icy chill, lungs burning slightly.

He scrambled up the embankment, heart pounding when he slipped on mud. He'd almost reached the top of the embankment, his heart lifting. He was almost free.

Almost.

There was a loud bang and then agony in the back of his knee. He cried out, legs bucking, and he rolled hard and fast down the steep hill. The world spun as he tumbled, loose branches lashing his face, 

He hit the bottom of the hill hard, head smacking against a stone. His shoulder popped, a wave of agony flying up his arm. He screamed. The world was fading in and out at an alarming rate., if it kept up like this, he wouldn't be able to get up. If he was able to get up at all. With the way everything was right now, unconsciousness was closing in.

He shifted in the mud, causing his ribs to scream. He cried out, falling back into the mud. His knee throbbed, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to get up. Footsteps approached, and he tensed. He turned his head in the mud, catching sight of black dress shoes in his vision. 

A boot caught a broken rib, forcing a scream out of his lips. The world flashed white, and when it appeared again, Whitmore was dragging him but his throbbing leg. He kicked out with his automail, catching the man in the knee. The man cried out, and Ed smirked through his half-conscious mind. 

The moment was short-lived.

"You little shit!" Whitmore yelled. The man grabbed his hair and struggled, flailing as much as his weakening body would allow. He was dragged a few more feet before they came to a halt. 

All of a sudden, metal was pressed against his forehead. He struggled to meet Whitmore's gaze, angry green eyes glaring down at him. "I told you that I wouldn't hesitate to kill you, you little shit." 

The safety clicked, and adrenaline-filled Ed's veins. He threw out his automail leg, causing Whitmore to jump back to dodge. The adrenaline allowed Ed to fly to his feet, knee nearly buckling but holding.

He clapped quickly, blade catching the gun in the man's hand, causing it to fly out of his grasp. A look of fear passed over his face as Ed limped over to the man. He clapped, throwing his hands down and trapping the man in stone. 

Voices yelled in the distance, but Ed barely processed it. Before he could stop it, he was on the ground. Lead quickly filled his limbs, and he knew he was losing consciousness. Feet caused the ground to vibrate, and people passed overhead in his darkening vision. 

"Fullmetal!" A voice echoed, someone pulled him up, he realized with faint amusement he was probably bleeding all over Mustang." You're ok. You're safe now." His head lolled against the man's shoulder.

The last thing he knew was that he was safe as the world faded to an encompassing black.

* * *

Someone was poking his cheek. He snuffled, head lolling away from the annoyance. His limbs felt heavy and mind slow. Whatever was in his system was doing its job really well. Darkness had nearly dragged him under when the finger poked him again.

Ed groaned, brow furrowing. He wanted away from the annoyance; it was keeping him from sleeping. The finger poked him twice more, and finally, Ed used his automail to bat away the annoyance. "So, you're finally awake?" A voice asked. Ed groaned, his bastard superior.

With a lot of effort, Ed pried open his eyes, the face of Mustang coming into focus. He looked around exhaustedly, the white walls sharpening in his vision, and the smell of antiseptic assaulting his senses. Everything suddenly came flooding back, and he jolted into a sitting position, flinching as the movements pulled on his wounds. 

"Woah, kid! You'll reopen your wounds." Mustang said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Ed shook his head to fight off the disorientation. He leaned back against the pillows, wincing as pain shot through his head. 

"Whitmore is going to prison," Mustang said, shifting in the uncomfortable chair, "For a very long time." He added. Ed nodded, eyes falling shut, exhaustion running through him.

"You scared the hell out of me, kid," Mustang said suddenly. Ed opened one eye, surprised to find genuine concern on his face. Ed smiled tiredly.

"You're not getting rid of me so easily, bastard." 

Mustang chuckled, shaking his head. He looked back at the boy and smiled. The boy had already fallen asleep.

"Sleep well, Ed."

Mustang brushed his finger through the blond bangs, sitting back into the uncomfortable chair, and thanking some higher power that his youngest subordinate was safe.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Little Sh*t](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828251) by [genericamerican](https://archiveofourown.org/users/genericamerican/pseuds/genericamerican)




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